private It's a Beautiful Day, She's Been Crying All Night - Scorchstreak

HOUNDTHISTLE

HOUNDTHISTLE

JUST LET IT DIE
Jan 6, 2023
136
21
18

"BECAUSE COWBOY DAN'S A MAJOR PLAYER IN THE COWBOY SCENE"​
C_Angelkisses.gif
Rarely the type to be sentimental or reach out, seeing Sootsprite and the return of his son, Houndthistle perhaps was a bit... softened recently. His bond with Wolfsong was perhaps strange, and maybe in any other circumstance he'd seek out that companionship, but he didn't... want that at the moment. Not when something joyous happened during something so bittersweet, and he felt a slight need to fill in for a role that should have been there. In the jaws of the brute, hung a few pretty red flowers he'd hunted down, wanting to make sure he congratulated the new mother in a way that mattered as he approached the finally mostly empty nursery. His head stuck in first, blinking amber eyes to adjust, before looking around for the vaguely familiar shape of red, black, and white.

Once his eyes landed on her, he slid in, looking quite awkward in the small space as he ducked his head. He swore he could feel his shoulders brushing the roof-clearly the nursery was not made with cats of his size to be in here-but still he gingerly made his way over to her nest, usually harsh gaze softened in the overwhelming face of the fond, warm nursery. Placing the flowers by her nest, he spoke softly, gruff voice a rumble,"Mind if I sit wit' ya? Look like ya could use a bit of company after yer long day." His gaze flicked to the warm, wriggling bodies by her belly. He didn't interact with her much, not intimately, but he knew she was also Tigerfrost's friend and he had... helped clean up for her after Dandelionwish's escape. Perhaps they could have a bit more in common then he assumed.

"speech"
OOC CURRENT STATS INTERACTION RULES
  • text
  • Physical Health
    100%
    ⤷ no current wounds
    Mental Health
    98%

  • Single | Bicurious | Not actively looking | Interested in none currently

    Houndthistle is both an easy one to gain the trust of and impossible to gain the trust of. He'll rarely reveal personal information or be vulnerable-if he's even capable of such things-but he will show trust in his willingness to lay his life down. To gain it, he needs evidence that you're loyal and strong, same as him, otherwise he understands he may one day have to come head to head with you.

    — will start fights / will not flee / will not show mercy
    — excels at Fighting, Tracking, Following Orders, Intimidation
    — poor at climbing, swimming, stealth, talking, strategy, politics
    — sounds like: deep, gravelled and thick with a sort of country accent / Arthur Morgan
    — smells of iron, leather, and wood
    — speech is #435E75

​
 
Through the many visitors that she’s allowed to see her kits, Scorchstreak has smiled and nodded and spoken to plenty of her clanmates, accepted praise and congratulations and all the like. Her nest is home to a couple small gifts and offerings—a rabbit skull here, a special pebble there. But not yet has anyone brought her flowers. And, perhaps, even better a gift than the flowers is the presence of Houndthistle himself. The hulking tom looks terribly out of place within the nursery, gargantuan against his surroundings. His paw is probably large enough to crush one of her kits if he were to step on them by accident.

Houndthistle is careful, though. His steps are taken gingerly, and he carries with him a few flowers that he rests beside her nest. They will work nicely to brighten up her corner of the nursery, and she blinks up at him for a moment, surprise clear on her face. "Thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful," she murmurs, reaching out with a delicate paw to trace the petals. Then her maw shifts into a smile, pleased as the tom asks whether he can stay. He’s correct; she could use some company. It’s nice, conversing with her clanmates, even the ones who she doesn’t know well.

Houndthistle is a tom who she doesn’t know too well, but she likes him all the same. He’d been there when she’d lost her first kit, and he’d been close with Tigerfrost as well. "Of course, sit down," she says with a nod. "I could always use someone to speak to. These ones aren’t stellar conversationalists yet." She gestures to her litter, golden eyes going cotton-soft as she gazes upon them. They’re perfect. "I don’t know if you’ve heard their names yet. These are Scorchkit, Luckykit, Rumblekit, and Frostkit." She points to each kit in turn, and then looks back up at him. He’s very tall, and she has to tip her head back to meet his eyes. Please sit down before I break my neck looking up at you.
​
[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]​
​
 

"BECAUSE COWBOY DAN'S A MAJOR PLAYER IN THE COWBOY SCENE"​
C_Angelkisses.gif
He blinks warmly, laying down next to her but not close enough to touch out of respect of her. His eyes flicked between each kit as she introduced them, committing their little patterns and even faces to memory. Afterall, he could, one day, even become a mentor to one of them-with how many apprentices and kits Windclan had, it wouldn't surprise him if Sootstar began double-mentoring-and he wanted to be sure he didn't mix them up. But each kit was their own special character, even now he could see that, and he chuckled lowly. "Yeah, they usually ain' at this age, but jus' wait 'till they learn the word 'no'," He joked, amber eyes glancing to meet hers as he smiles, "I got unlucky as mine was at that age shortly after I took 'im in. L'il scrap once even told me no for 'is favorite prey then still ate it." He rolls his eyes playfully.

The nursery, in it's warmth, was a comfort to Houndthistle, reminding him of softer times, but he still felt... strange. After a second of silence, he spoke again. "How've ya been... holdin' up since...?" He let his sentence drift, looking at Scorchstreak with slight sympathy. It was clear he was talking about Tigerfrost's death, the grief flickering in his gaze. He couldn't imagine how she must feel, so many things happening so close together, but in a way... they were in similar but different situations. She gave birth to her kits and Houndthistle's son returned so shortly after the death of their shared friend, it was almost like the stars themselves pulled those strings. And perhaps they did, he'd never know. Either way, it was... bittersweet. Cruel maybe, but with such a soft edge it hurt more.

"speech"
OOC CURRENT STATS INTERACTION RULES
  • text
  • Physical Health
    Who Knows atm
    ⤷ left eye is blinded, deep bite wound and claw marks in chest, stomach, and shoulders.
    Mental Health
    98%

  • Single | Bicurious | Not actively looking | Interested in none currently

    Houndthistle is both an easy one to gain the trust of and impossible to gain the trust of. He'll rarely reveal personal information or be vulnerable-if he's even capable of such things-but he will show trust in his willingness to lay his life down. To gain it, he needs evidence that you're loyal and strong, same as him, otherwise he understands he may one day have to come head to head with you.

    — will start fights / will not flee / will not show mercy
    — excels at Fighting, Tracking, Following Orders, Intimidation
    — poor at climbing, swimming, stealth, talking, strategy, politics
    — sounds like: deep, gravelled and thick with a sort of country accent / Arthur Morgan
    — smells of iron, leather, and wood
    — speech is #435E75

​
 
The tom settles down nearby her nest, and Scorchstreak listens intently as he speaks. He talks about his own kit, one he’d taken in. So he’s a father; she tucks that information away, though she also wonders where his kit is these days. It’s sweet, though, listening to such a massive, hulking warrior speak so gently about raising a kit. It’s quite endearing, and the tunneler finds herself smiling once again. As much as she hopes for her kits to be obedient little angels, she understands the unavoidable no and why stages. "Ah, the joys of kittens. Such a handful, even with just one of them," she chuckles. She is still dreading the day this litter becomes mobile; one set of tiny paws was difficult enough to corral, but four? Badgermoon had better be helping out with kitsitting duties.

Houndthistle is quiet for a moment, and the calico observes him during that time. He sticks out like a sore tail in the nursery, amongst rounded queens and tired new mothers, amongst the slew of kit toys that are scattered around. But at the same time, he looks as though hue belongs. A true father figure, if she’s ever seen one. He speaks again, and she can practically smell the pity rolling off of him. Normally she’d hate it, but her tiny kittens are tucked up against her, and she appreciates him asking.

She sighs. "Oh, it’s been…" she trails off, musing over her next words carefully. She is not the type to lie, but such vulnerability feels wrong, in a way. Grieving, when she’s so happy with her kits? Scorchstreak is hesitant to accept her own feelings, being happy and sad at the same time. It’s bittersweet, she thinks. "I’ve been struggling. Tigerfrost was a good friend of mine. I really wanted them to meet him." She clears her throat, shaking her head as though trying to clear her thoughts. "How about you? At least I can hide away in here—how are you doing?"
​
[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]​
​
 
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